


A Break From Reason

by Vérë (Weltenweber)



Series: His Greatest Achievement [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Elrond, Dinner Preparations, Everyone - fear the House of Fëanor!, Gen, Humor, Light-Hearted, Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 02:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17499497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weltenweber/pseuds/V%C3%A9r%C3%AB
Summary: "Somehow the former lord of Imladris, and ironically his so-called best friend, always seemed to know exactly how to rile him up - without even trying.""Glorfindel really had hoped that things would change now that they had left Middle-Earth.But he had been mistaken.Badly mistaken."In which Glorfindel hides weapons, the elvesdon'tgo to war and Elrond just wants to have a nice dinner.Having the house of Fëanor over really needs some thorough preparations.Readable as Stand-alone





	A Break From Reason

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone =)
> 
> So...this one took a bit longer (I was on vacation), but I've finally finished it, too.  
> Since I'm no big on author notes (you are after all here to read the story, not my ramblings), I'll leave you to it.
> 
> Have fun!

Glorfindel had always prided himself in being a reasonable and even-tempered elf. No matter how terrible the situation, he always managed to remain calm and logical.

In fact, there were not many things that would make him loose it. He might occasionally get slightly irritated and rather curt, but he rarely lost his composure completely.

He could rely on this unwavering trait of his like he could rely on the sun to rise in the morning and on Eärendil to light the night.

But then he had met Elrond.

And suddenly Eärendil forgot to take the Silmaril on his nightly sailing adventure and Ariën decided to have a nice sleep-in.

At least that was how it felt like.

Because somehow the former lord of Imladris, and ironically his so-called best friend, always seemed to know exactly how to rile him up - without even trying.

Glorfindel _really_ had hoped that things would change now that they had left Middle-Earth.

But he had been mistaken.

Badly mistaken.

It got even _worse_.

Not only did his friend insist on making regular visits to his foster-father, he even went gallivanting around with the remaining six _sons of_ _Fëanor_ , offhandedly strolling over for tea and biscuits!

But was that enough for that annoying half-elf?

_Of course not._

He just had to go and invite _**them** _over!

Absolutely unbelievable!

 

~*~

 

"Don't you think that you are exaggerating, my friend?" Elrond, the very picture of serenity, calmly closed his book and turned his attention to his very irritated friend.

 

"Exaggerating?!" The cloud surrounding Glorfindel darkened angrily.

 

"I am not exaggerating anything!", Glorfindel snapped. " _You_ are the one who is not taking this seriously enough! It's almost time and you are sitting here calmly reading a _book_!"

 

Putting said offending book aside, Elrond leisurely rose from his chair and gave Glorfindel a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"You need to calm down, my friend. Nothing is going to happen."

 

Glorfindel snorted in disbelief.

Fine.

If Elrond was not willing to take this seriously, then he would do it himself.

 

~*~

 

Frodo watched in bemusement as Lord Elrond's usually serious elves hurried around in dignified disorder, busily collecting and whisking away every _remotely_ sharp or heavy object they could find.

Paperweights were taken away, hairpins confiscated, vases hidden and one particular thorough elf even spirited away what seemed to be a well-used curtain rod.

 

Strangely enough, this entire chaos was led by _Lord Glorfindel_ , who Frodo had always thought to be a rather reasonable and even-tempered elf.

The Balrogslayer had taken to stalking around the house with a dark scowl on his handsome face, followed by something that looked disturbingly like his own personal cloud of doom.

Frodo mused absently if that was how he had looked when he was about to face that balrog and hastily stepped back as an incensed elleth came storming out of her quarters, yelling angrily after an elf who had just made off with her knitting needles.

Deciding that things were getting way to dangerous out here, Frodo carefully made his way back to his rooms.

Besides of this, he really had to reconsider his opinion on elves.

To think that _Lord Glorfindel_ of all people could act in such an unreasonable manner.

 

~*~

The first complaint Elrond received from an irate elleth took him completely by surprise.

Just why would one of his guards take away _knitting needles_?

'How very strange.', he thought as he looked at the half-finished scarf that had been angrily thrown on his desk.

 

~*~

The second one was equally puzzling.

Elrond stopped in watering his favorite potted plant (a peppermint he had received from Maitimo) and furrowed his brows at the elf who had just told him that he could not take his midday nap, because the sun was too bright and someone had made off with his curtain rods.

First knitting needles, then curtain rods?

'Glorfindel just _what_ are you doing out there?', he wondered dryly, as the elf happily left the room with a steaming cup of lavender tea and a half-finished scarf to wrap around his eyes.

 

~*~

The third one was more a factual observation, then an actual complaint.

"My apologies, my Lord.", Erestor inclined his head respectfully. "But I fear I cannot move that chest. All our furniture appears to be chained down."

 

"Oh?", Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? How _inconvenient._ "

His eyes glittered strangely.

 

~*~

The fourth complaint was rather different, too.

It came from Bilbo, who reported that a wraith had taken to haunting Elrond's home, stealing candle-holders.

Putting down his favorite pen (he had gotten it from Tyelcormo), Elrond reassured his friend that his house was completely wraith-free and that he had just seen Glorfindel in a particular bad mood.

Really nothing to worry about.

 

Sufficiently appeased the hobbit had a cup of tea, three plates of scones, two pies and five fruit muffins with the elf-lord, before he excused himself to make some after-tea smoke rings, muttering something about unreasonable elves along the way.

 

~*~

"The candle-holders are gone.", Elrond mentioned offhandedly as he came to a halt next to Glorfindel. "Dear Bilbo was convinced that they had been taken by a wraith. He was quite distressed."

 

Glorfindel snorted. "Leave it to a hobbit to confuse an elf with a servant of Sauron."

 

Elrond gave Glorfindel a pointed look. "Perhaps he would not have erred so grievously, if he had been able to _see_."

 

~*~

They were preparing for war.

'And against some terrible foe, too.'

At least that was Elrond's first thought, when he saw the fear in his elves' eyes and the heavy armor they had donned.

And he would have believed it, too.

 

If it was not for that rather distinct lack of weapons around.

In fact, there seemed to be a distinct lack of _anything_.

His house was practically empty.

 

Elrond sighed quietly.

Glorfindel was really acting rather unreasonable today.

 

 

~*~

 

"Don't you think that you are _slightly_ overreacting?", Elrond asked for the second time this day.

His question had the same effect it had the first time he had asked it.

None at all.

 

"No.", Glorfindel snapped back, sending an uncharacteristically fierce glare at Elrond in a futile attempt to convey his displeasure.

 

He really shouldn't have bothered.

Compared to Fëanor's gate-melting glare, Glorfindel's one was barely worth mentioning.

 

So, of course, Elrond remained unaffected. "We are not going to be attacked, my friend. "  

 

Glorfindel scoffed in disbelief, his lips set in grim determination. "We might as well be."

His eyes narrowed at Elrond. "And it's your fault!"

 

Elrond barely refrained from rolling his eyes at his over-dramatic friend and ignored the accusation in favor of asking another pressing question that had been bothering him since the moment he had entered the scene.

"What are Gil-galads warriors doing here?"

There was no mistaking Ereinions subordinates.

They were the only ones who always wore overly shiny armor.

 

"Reinforcements.", Glorfindel answered curtly.

 

"And the Galadhrim?"

 

"Lady Galadriel sent them over, while you were busy drinking tea."

 

Elrond ignored that jab with practiced ease. "Of course she did." His voice took a rather dry tune.

"And I suppose she also asked Lord Tulkas to hide in that tree over there?"

 

"No." Glorfindel glanced in the direction Elrond had nodded. "He came by his own volition. Saying he was bored."

 

The Valar waved cheerfully at them.

They waved back.

 

~*~

 

"It is time.", Elrond said calmly, as he took position next to Glorfindel.

The atmosphere changed immediately. The air became thick with tension.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then they came.

The faces of three hundred elves filled with dread.

Elrond smiled in joy as he stepped down to greet his guests.

"Fëanor."

 

~*~

Glorfindel was displeased.

He had actually forgotten to lock away Elrond's tea service.

What if they decided to throw it at someone?

Hot tea could also leave some very nasty burns.

And those cushions over there could make some rather dangerous weapons.

If they made another _oath..._

Ah. He really should have emptied the entire house!

Well, at least all of his guards wore full-body armor. 

And as long as those eight did not find out where he had hidden all those dangerous items, everything was fine.

 

~*~

 

"I am afraid, we are slightly behind schedule", Elrond explained apologetically as he filled Ambarto's tea cup.

 

Fëanor and his sons were seated on several fluffy cushions, seemingly completely unbothered by the fact, that they were sitting in a almost barren room, fearfully watched by several hundred heavily-armored warriors and a very grim Glorfindel, who kept his eyes firmly locked on the tea cups.

 

"But since _Glorfindel_ was able to get us some ****reinforcements**** , ****dinner**** will be ready in no time." Elrond smiled pleasantly at the small army standing in his dinning room.

 

Some of the elves shivered.

There was something dark in that smile.

 

"Perhaps you would like to pay a visit to the ****armory**** while they unchain the dining table? ", Elrond offered amicably.

 

"You have an armory?", Tyelcormo sounded pleasantly surprised.

 

"Certainly.", Elrond answered calmly. " _Glorfindel_ finished it just ****today****. _He_ thought you might ****enjoy**** it. Come. Let's take a ****look****."

 

Glorfindel could only stare in complete disbelief as all his painstaking efforts were rendered completely naught.

 

That half-elf...

 

....Absolutely _**maddening**_!

 

 

 

 

**_**_EXTRA:_ ** _ **

**_**** _ **

"Elrond?“, Curufinwë asked curiously "Why are there _knitting needles_  in your armory?"

"Look!", Ambarussa exclaimed. "I've found a curtain rod!"

"Anyone need a soap?", Carnistir offered, holding said object up.

 

"I have to say...", Fëanor mused. "...that Glorfindel has a _very_ strange taste in weapons."


End file.
